


Coyote and the Boy

by braedens



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Confessions, Confusion, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Prompt Fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cutest couple, multiple fics, snowdays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:59:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4846676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braedens/pseuds/braedens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a bunch of small fics and drabbles for Stalia I wrote, some from <a>this fic prompt</a>  on tumblr. I got so many Stalia requests, I thought I'd just upload them into one big glob here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: Can u do a fic where stiles and Malia get voted cutest couple?

“Oh my God, Stiles, look!”  
  
Scott had a ridiculous grin on his face, and shoved his yearbook across the lunch table.  
  
“What, did they get a bad photo of me? I swear to God, I think Cynthia is out to get me with that camera.” Stiles eagerly grabbed the book towards him.  
  
Instead of being on some Student Life page where he can usually find awful candids of him (No, really, last year Cynthia managed to get a prime photo of him at the homecoming dance looking like a complete spazz. He had to give her credit for being bold enough to make it full page.) but instead, the Senior Superlatives. 

“Wha-” his eyes skimmed over the page, noticing Scott under the title as “Most Outgoing” and Lydia under “Most Likely to Succeed”. He was about to comment on them, until he saw it. Right smack in the middle of the page.  
  
It was a picture of him and Malia, taken after a lacrosse practice judging how they are on the bleachers outside and Stiles has his practice gear on. He remembers that day pretty vividly, even though it was almost three months ago. 

Malia always comes to his practices and watches in the bleachers, cheering for him despite no actual game taking place. Even though his teammates think it’s annoying, Stiles is always endeared. He never had someone who was willing to take time out of their day to just be there for him, nonetheless a girlfriend. 

He made it a habit at every break to meet Malia on her spot on the bleachers to kiss her and tell her he loved her. It was a small gesture on his part, but he hoped it showed his admiration enough.  
  
And that was the picture that was smack dab in the middle of the Superlatives page, with the heading “Cutest Couple: Stiles Stilinski & Malia Tate”. And it actually was a good photo. It was clear, natural lighting, and had a perfect angle. It was great.  
  
“Oh my God. Oh my _God._ ” he gaped, couldn’t take his eyes off the page.  
  
“Stiles, you guys got Cutest Couple!” Scott eagerly implied, shaking the book in his hand.  
  
“I can’t believe you of all people were put under any title with Cutest or Couple” Liam contested, pulling the book toward him to actually see. He deserved the french fry Stiles threw at him.  
  
“What about Cutest Couple?” Lydia joined them at the table with her lunch bag, Kira and Malia in tow with trays in their hands. Malia sat to Stiles’ left, and instinctively kissed her cheek without a thought.  
  
“Look!” Scott held up the book for the girls to see.  
  
“Oh my gosh!” Kira squealed, grabbing onto Malia’s arm. “That’s so exciting, congrats you guys!”  
  
Malia’s brows furrowed at the book. “I don’t get this, what does this mean? And how did they get this picture?”  
  
Stiles glared across the cafeteria, Cynthia and her other editor friends sitting at their usual table.  
  
“Cynthia is a photography fiend, that’s how. I’m surprised this isn’t a picture of me mid sneeze.” he gestured to the book. Lydia rolled her eyes at the comment and looked to Malia.  
  
“Senior Superlatives is basically a superficial voting contest. The senior class votes on who their favorite people are for different topics, and the winners get placed in the book.”

“So, they think me and Stiles are the cutest couple?”  
  
“Don’t act so surprised.” Kira comments, rewarded with a confused look from both Stiles and Malia. When she realizes their looks are genuine, her eyes go wide.  
  
“You guys literally around bound by the hip. You’re always holding hands or kissing. And not even in a gross, PDA type of way. It’s cute. Just look at you now!”  
  
Stiles didn’t even notice when his arm had moved around Malia, hand on her side and holding her close to him, or how their ankles are hooked together.  
  
“I didn’t notice it all that much, honestly. Huh.” Stiles blinks. He’s always been so used to being by Malia’s side. She makes him happy, calmer. Good. He turns his head to look at Malia, who does the same, and squeezes her side with a lopsided grin.  
  
“Cutest Couple. Stiles and Malia. I can dig it.” he said.  
  
And what he loved was that Malia didn’t think he said something dumb, or roll her eyes. She just smiled that smile he loved and leaned in to press her lips to his, kissing him soft.  
  
Liam makes a gagging noise in the background.  
  
Stiles throws a handful of french fries his way without even pulling away from Malia.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked for the fic prompt sentence "Don't you dare throw that snowb- goddamnit!"

“Stiles, you’re being such a loser.”

“I’m sorry, from the looks of it, I’m the only one doing anything right now!”

Of course. Of _fucking_ course there’s a snow day in California. It barely even gets rain here, let alone goddamn snow. 

And Stiles’ precious baby is not equipped, oh no. Roscoe has lived through death and back, but snow? Never.

Which is why Stiles is shoveling snow from around his car, because if he doesn’t, then they aren’t going to get to the pack meeting, and more importantly, his car is going to have to do some seriously expensive spa treatments.

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal, Stiles.”

His head whisks to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “Yes it is a big deal, Malia. Roscoe doesn’t do snow, okay. There is nothing I care more about than this child.”

Malia glares at him with those eyes, those damn eyes, and he has to roll his. 

“Except, of course, you, my beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend who is currently _playing in snow_ rather than helping her distressed boyfriend.” 

“You are not distressed,” she scoffs. “You’re just paranoid.”

He chooses to ignore her to focus on shoveling snow, making it his top priority to be able to at least get in his car and turn on the heat. But before he’s two shovels in, a flash of white races past his eyes, hitting his passenger door.   
  
“What the fu-” he turns, and Malia is standing across the lawn, both hands with big, probably painful, snowballs.   
  
“Malia, no.” he warns, but her arm raises, and so does her eyes.  
  
“Malia, I’m serious,” he says, lifting a finger. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

He doesn’t even get a second before a cold ball of ice smashes onto his face, forcing him to tumble over, landing ass-first into the snow.   
  
It’s still for a second, Malia just standing and watching, before-

“Oh, you’re fucking _dead_.”

Malia screams and runs, but Stiles is already on her tail, an armful of snow along with him. 

Stiles can’t be bothered if their neighbors watch them in dismay, a bunch of young adults having a snowball fight.  
  
He catches up to her once he’s out of snow, and hooks and arm around her waist, lifting her from the ground. Stiles knows that Malia could probably use an ounce of her strength at any second, but he can’t help but smile at the idea of her indulging him, of all times.  
  
She squeals, but it quickly turns into a laugh as he spins her around, and they tumble down onto a pile of snow together, and neither of them can stop laughing.   
  
Malia sits up from where she’s lying on top of him, her smile wide and eyes sparkling, and despite how cold it is outside, Stiles feels so warm all over. 

“I totally won.” he comments, reaching up to brush snow from Malia’s hair. She scoffs.   
  
“Yeah, sure.” she mumbles, but leans down to kiss him nonetheless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked to use the fic prompt: "I can't believe you talked me into this."

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Malia can glare and sulk all she wants, but Stiles has never been as happy as he is now, in line to see the midnight premiere of Star Wars: the Force Awakens. 

But, oh no, that’s not why he’s excited. And it’s not why Malia is going to make him owe her back for maybe years. It’s because Malia agreed to cosplay to the premiere with him as Princess Leia.

_In the gold metal bikini._

“What are you talking about? You look awesome!” he argues, giving her a once over. He was surprised she agreed to even go with it in the first place. It was easy enough when he admitted he’d be dressed as Luke. Though, she oddly drew the line at putting her hair up. 

Stiles likes her hair down anyway. 

They’re fairly close to the front of the line, behind a few other cosplayers, who don’t hide the longing stares they give his girlfriend, making Stiles’ strangely territorial.   
  
She frumps, but to his surprise, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable or out of place. He can’t tell if she’s secretly enjoying the costume, or she’s just putting on a brave face for him. Thinking about the latter, a small smile spreads on Stiles’ face.   
  
“C’mere,” he says, holding his arms out.   
  
Malia has that skeptical look on her face, but complies, and steps into his space, and Stiles holds onto her sides.   
  
“Thanks for doing this for me, with me. I know it’s kind of nerdy, and very stupid,” his eyes drift down for a brief second, but he can’t help thinking how lucky he is. “Scott would never agree to come with me, and honestly I was pretty surprised you agreed.”   
  
“Why?”  
  
Stiles shrugs. “Like I said, it’s not the coolest way to spend your Friday night.”  
  
“Stiles, I don’t think this is stupid,” she shakes her head, presses closer to him. “I think it’s fun. You like it, so it has to be important. And if it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”  
  
“Really?” His goofy grin beams as he tightens his hold on her.

“Yes. I love doing things you’re into. What I don’t like is this bikini. Why does it ride up so much? God.” she grimaces, moves a hand to adjust the waist strap.   
  
Stiles covers the hand she’s fiddling with his and leans in, pressing his lips to her. He kisses her slowly, lips fitting perfectly like they always seem to do. It’s unhurried and sweet, and doesn’t last long enough when they part to breathe.   
  
“I love you, you know that?”  
  
Malia grins wide, her arms sliding around his neck, and fingers scratching the hairs at the nape of his neck, which always gives him goosebumps.   
  
“I love you, too, dork.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked for the fic prompt: "Marry me?"

Stiles figures the night can’t get any worse. 

If he’s being honest, he’s been thinking up the plan for a long time coming now. It’s not like he necessarily knew in high school that Malia would be the girl he’d want to spend the rest of his life with. Of course not. They were young, their relationship was new, and very unbalanced.

But, then again, most teenagers their age worry about their SAT scores, not when the next supernatural being will terrorize their town. 

So, yes, it took a long time to get to where they are. It took high school graduation, and three more years of dating in college. It took patience and limits being pushed. It even took a small break-up (To be fair, it only lasted a day because neither of them could stay away from each other longer than that.)

It took spending six out of the seven days of the week at each other’s apartments, and Stiles just decided the get a place together. 

It even took getting a fucking _dog_. 

And now, Stiles can’t remember the last time he was so content and happy. He spent a good portion of his days believing that he wasn’t good enough, that he was destined to be the epitome of loneliness. 

But a brunette with teeth so sharp and a glare even more had walked into his life, and stole his heart. He doesn’t even care how cliche it sounds, it was true. He was head over heels for this girl. For Malia.

Which is why you can imagine this lanky, hyperactive man’s dilema when not only does their reservation get lost, ruining the romantic dinner he planned, but today just so happens to be the day that California decided to stop it’s drought and start pouring rain outside.  
  
And his jeep stalls on them in the parking lot.

They have to call Scott to come pick them up from the restaurant and take them back home, and Stiles can only sulk in the backseat and tries to wonder how much more bad luck he can get. 

* * *

Malia unlocks the door for them, and Clove, their German Shepard, greets them at the door with excitement.   
  
“Hi, cutie,” Malia smiles, rubbing her hands over his head. His tail wags excitedly, and Stiles’ is just glad someone is happy tonight. 

They change out of their wet clothes and decide that they might as well order in a pizza and set up camp in the living room in pajamas.   
  
They’re an hour into the first Star Wars movie, surprisingly Malia’s choice, when she notices Stiles’ hasn’t even tried to make a witty remark yet. 

She lifts her head from it’s spot on his chest to look up at him.

“Are you okay?” her brows crease. “You’re quiet.”

He wants to just scream  _‘No, I’m not fine because everything about to tonight is ruined and I’m a total fuck-up’_ , but he just settles on “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”  
  
Stiles finally looks down at her. “Nothing gets past you werewolves, damn.”

“Is this about tonight?” she asks, sitting up on the coach. Malia puts her hand over his, staring at him intently. “It’s okay, really.”  
  
“No, it’s not,” Stiles sighs. “Tonight was supposed to be amazing. It was going to be romantic, and special, and you were going to smile that smile that always gives me shivers, and you looked so beautiful and I fucked up.”

He throws his head back to stare at the ceiling, his head resting on the armrest. He feels Malia move so that she’s straddling his torso, and he feels her ridiculously warms hands hold onto his cheek and force him to look at her. 

“Hey, it’s not your fault. It was the restaurant’s fault for fucking up. And as much as I love the thought, you know I’m just as happy being here at home with you. “ She pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love when we get to just sit in normal clothes and you do that thing where you run your fingers through the ends of my hair.” She kisses his cheek. “I have an amazing boyfriend who does sickeningly sweet things for me. I don’t care what we’re doing, even if we’re sitting in the pouring rain,” She kisses Stiles on the lips, firm, but quick. 

“As long as I’m with you.”

Her smile is small, but her fingers runs over his cheeks softly, barely there touches. Stiles blinks.

“Marry me.”

Malia’s mouth falls open, and Stiles’ takes the opportunity to reach into the pocket of his sweats and pull out a small red velvet box, opening it to find a simple engagement ring, but with a black diamond, and holds it out.  
  
“I was going to ask you at dinner, and I had this whole thing planned out, how I was going to ask you. It was going to be perfect. I was planning it for months.” he says, and feels himself blushing. God, what if he’s just fucking it all up now?  
  
“But, you know, if what you said is all true, then I don’t need to do this whole big fancy asking. I know that I love you, more than anything, and I want to keep loving you forever. Because as long as I have you, that’s how I know it;s going to be okay.”

It’s silent for way longer than Stiles’ anxiety can manage, and just right before he starts hyperventilating, Malia bursts into the biggest grin he’s ever seen. She jumps in her spot, pushing on his stomach, but he’s honestly to nerve racked to care.  
  
“You know this means you’re stuck with me. No take-backs.” Malia smirks, and God, Stiles is so in love with her.  
  
He rolls his eyes. “Is that a yes?”  
  
She takes the ring from the box and slips it onto her finger, but doesn’t even take a second look before she’s leaning down to press their lips together, smiling between their kiss. It’s almost instinct how his hands wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him, but she pulls just an inch away. 

“Yes.” she says, and leans back in.

* * *

Clove is the ring bearer for the ceremony, and no one is surprised.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked me for the fic prompt: "I think I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified."

_“Hey, this is Stilinski, leave a message. Or don’t.”_

Malia glared at the cell phone in her hand, two mere seconds away from tossing it across her bedroom.

It’s been two days since she’s even heard from Stiles, in person or over the phone. Nothing. And to make matters worse, he was _ignoring_ her. Sending her calls straight to voicemail, not meeting her at their usual spots to walk to classes together.   
  
Two days ago, everything was fine. Great, even. Stiles had helped Malia finish the last of her college applications, and they decided to hike down to the quarry with a blanket and just relax. And if their little date lead to something more along the lines of intense making out, can you really blame them? Things were finally good between them! 

Or, apparently not.   
  
Here Malia was, sitting alone in her bedroom, trying to focus long enough to understand the difference between pathos, ethos, and logos, but her mind was a million places. Did Stiles suddenly stop being interested in her? Did she do something wrong?   
  
Malia did have the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that Stiles might feel like she was not at the same pace as his, intellect wise. She was holding him back. Stiles was applying to bigger schools in different cities, and Malia barely met the criteria to qualify for in-state.   
  
“This is ridiculous”, she stood up from her bed and left her room, grabbing her car keys on the way out. Like hell she was going to sit here wondering.

* * *

 

If Stiles didn’t have lacrosse practice, best chance was to find him at home. But when she knocked on the front door ( _”No, Malia, you need to stop using the window. We are dating. In a relationship. You can use the front door.”_ ) she was greeted by the sheriff instead. 

“Malia,” he smiled, holding the door open. “You here for Stiles?”  
  
“Yeah,” she nodded. She always felt a bit off being around the sheriff, ironically. “Is he home?”

John led her inside, closing the door behind her. “Just upstairs. Want me to call him down?”

Malia shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to have an argument with Stiles in front of his dad. 

“I’ll just go up there.” she said, already making her way up the stairs.   
  
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he called back, but when she glanced behind her, he was already out of the foyer. 

“Why are you avoiding me?”  
  
Stiles whisked his head, only to move his whole body in a jolt and fall back in his chair, taking down a text book and most of his notes from the desk down with him. 

“Fucking Chri-, why did you sneak up on me like that?!”   
  
Malia stepped into the room and shut the bedroom door behind her.   
  
“You didn’t answer my question.”

Stiles scratches the back of his head, something she usually sees him do when he’s nervous, as he picks himself up off the floor.   
  
“I’m not avoiding you,” he starts, but Malia cuts him off.   
  
“Bullshit.” she snarls, taking her phone out of her back pocket. “You didn’t meet me between any classes yesterday, and you won’t answer any of my texts or calls.”  
  
Stiles looks exhausted, sighs deeply, but his eyes stay to the ground. 

“Mali-,”

“If you want to break up with me, just say it.” she grits out. 

And Stiles’ head shoots right up, eyes boring into her. “Is that what you think, that I want to break up?”  
  
She keeps her mouth shut this time, afraid of what she would even say, or do for that matter. But Stiles rushes to her, hinds placed on her arms. 

“No, no, no, no, Malia. I definitely do not want to break up. Just the opposite really.”

Her brows furrow, but she still doesn’t respond. Stiles takes a notice. 

“Do you remember the other night, we went out to the quarry? And we were talking about what would happened if we both got into SDU?”

Skeptically, Malia nods her head. Stiles talked about what their apartment would look like, because they would obviously live together, and that he would make her breakfast in his underwear. They laughed, but Malia wondered if it really was just a joke.   
  
“Do you remember what you said to me?” he asked, his eyes staring so deep into her she was sure he was burning holes. 

“No, what?”

He dropped his head down to take a sharp breath, but brought his eyes back up to hers. “You said you loved me.”  
  
Okay. She didn’t remember that at all. 

“I mean, granted, you said it in passing, and it was so casual, I almost didn’t register it, but you said it, and it’s been throwing me off.”  
  
 _In your underwear? It’s a good thing I love you, Stiles._

She can vaguely, just vaguely remember when she said it. Huh. It just slipped by, easy as that. And she wasn’t lying; she truly loves Stiles. 

“Wait,” she backs up from his touch just a tad. “Does this mean you, you don’t…”

“Malia, woah, no!” Stiles takes her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs in her palm in the way that always makes her stomach flutter. “God, I’ve been trying to tell you this for so long, trying to find the right way, the right time. And then you just say it, so simple! Nothing to it.” He stops, just to squeeze her hands and smiles.

“Malia, I love you, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me because I don’t remember the last time I loved someone so much,” he sucks in a breath. “And I want to always be the one to take care of you, and to hold you, and to fucking make you breakfast in my goddamn underwear in our apartment somewhere. And it terrifies me because I don’t know if you want the same.”  
  
There a long drag of silence between them, just eyes connecting and hands gripping each other. It goes on for almost half a minute before Malia tackles him forward, gripping onto his plaid shirt and pulling him into a kiss that will probably bruise their lips. She pulled their lips apart just so she could press a softer kiss, a second, a third, to his mouth, her arms snaking their way around his shoulders.   
  
They pull apart after a minute, and Malia can’t help but smile at how Stiles always keeps his eyes closed a few seconds longer after a kiss. Their foreheads press together, breath mixing between them.   
  
“I love you, too.” she says, hoping that she convey the truth simply in the way she looks at him.

And this time, Stiles pulls her in.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm braedens on tumblr and i do more stuff.


End file.
